Ismira
by ShamedShadow
Summary: Twenty years ago, Eragon Shadeslayer left Alagaësia for lands beyond to rebuild the Dragon Riders. He has succeeded in that feat, but of the dragon egg he takes to Palancar Valley and to his cousin's home remains to be told. Rated T just in case.
1. Prologue: In The Name of Peace

**Ismira**

**Prologue: In The Name of Peace**

Eragon Shadeslayer. That's what they had called him in the days of the war. After that, it was Eragon Kingkiller. And his dragon, Saphira Bjatskular, Brightscales. They were loved and feared by the people of Alagaësia. Their names were common to the people of the cities that dotted its landscape: Teirm, Dras-Leona, Aroughs, and even Ilirea. But even as they had left Alagaësia, so too had their names become part of the myths and legends of the land. Their names had become synonymous with the fall of the Empire, and the death of Galbatorix. Eragon remembered well that day, the day he had wrought the most powerful magic he could imagine, the likes of which he suspected he would never see again. And even as the time of the Empire came to an end, the age of the Riders was just beginning. Remembering that sorrowful day upon which Eragon left Alagaësia, he could not help but feel the pangs of his heart, a thought that Saphira shared.

They sat upon a mountaintop. But not just any mountaintop, it was a jagged and rough landscape. The cliffs were high and the beasts that roamed the mountains just as fierce. Eragon and Saphira had chanced upon the location on their way to the new home of the Riders, and the pair spent many hours at the place. More often than not, Eragon found his time there filled with meditation and conversations with Saphira. Very few times was he disturbed by Graufdera, the dwarf woman whom Orik had been so lucky as to find within a few weeks of his departure. Upon her arrival in the place Eragon had found, a place he had dubbed _Stenr Abr Du Varda. _It was a rough name, but it had fit the Riders well enough, the "guards" of Alagaësia. But when Graufdera had come to _Stenr Abr Du Varda,_ the dwarf woman had spoken with him at length about the name, and convinced him to change it to _Du Vardafells. _The name had been much more appropriate in his mind and it allowed for the possible expansion of the place onto more parts of the chain of mountains, and so he had agreed to change it.

Graufdera had become his right-hand Rider since her time with him, during which he had taught her much of the ways of Dragons and how they conducted their business amongst the land. And her dragon, a stout and strong female brown dragon, one befitting of a dwarf, whom she had named Miremel, was surprisingly similar to the dwarf in her love of the land. Eragon found the name fitting for the proud and gruff dragon, and was glad that he had not decided upon the name for Saphira in those first months they spent together, in the days when he knew little of the world and of magic and filled his days caring for Saphira and making sure she was not discovered by Garrow and Roran. Within a few months of Graufdera's arrival, so too had come an Urgal male, one who had been chosen by a fierce and mighty gray-silver dragon, whom Raknovosh had deemed worthy of the name Koruvesh. Raknovosh had quickly proven himself a skilled warrior and an intelligent and cunning magician, far surpassing Eragon's initial opinions of an Urgal able to wield magic.

But in the years since Graufdera and Raknovosh had come to him, many more Riders had come, many more than he had expected. He was not prepared when he was regularly sending out new eggs. At one point he considered waiting a few months before sending out more eggs, so that he could take the time to train all the new recruits. He had already been filling rooms with as many as ten or more students at a time. It was not at all what he wanted for the new Riders, but since he was the only one, with the aid of Glaedr and Umaroth, who could properly train them practically, he had no choice. And so he toiled and taught, he dueled and sparred with any who wished to, and more often than not Eragon found his skills tested by those Urgals and elves with whom he fought. Even dwarves proved an interesting and surprisingly devious foe, as the dwarves had found ways to counteract their larger opponents by using the length of arm of their opponents against them.

After almost ten years _Du Vardafells_ had become the home of nearly one-hundred and fifty Riders, and as the dragons that were there began to breed and have eggs of their own, he knew that the Dragons would not die out, as he had hoped. Saphira herself had even lain several eggs over the years, of many colors in the spectrum. In the meanwhile, Eragon found himself constantly assigning some of the more experienced of the new Riders to coax the stone of the mountains into new rooms and roosts, with others still practicing trades they had held at home, from bow-making to smithy work to weaving and other mundane tasks, when they weren't practicing magic or other skills that the Riders were required to have. But _Du Vardafells_ persisted, and the Riders grew back into prominence. Ten years after Graufdera's arrival, Eragon sent the first "graduates" back to their respective races, one to each of the Rider races. He was sure they were greeted with a great many celebrations, and had returned with stories of home for the others, encouraging them to work diligently in their studies so that they may return home when their dragons were an appropriate size and strength, and when Eragon felt that their skills would be enough to protect them against most any foe.

But that had been almost nine years ago now. Twenty years ago Eragon had left Alagaësia, and now Eragon was thinking of home, Palancar Valley. He wondered how his cousin-brother Roran and his wife Katrina fared, and how Ismira, the young woman she had become by now, was coming along. Saphira's mind touched his, and she shared her thoughts of how she missed spending time in Ellesméra among the elves and with Arya's dragon, Fírnen. Eragon was sure that Fírnen had grown just as large as Saphira since their departure, and was almost certain that he would still, despite his younger age, prove a fine match for Saphira. He let his thoughts drift to Arya, but only for a short while, as too much thought on the topic would send him spiraling into a shallow depression that would not leave him until he took his leave for his waking dreams that night. When the time came for Eragon to depart the peak he and Saphira had been visiting it was nearly evening, and the sun hung low in the sky as Saphira's massive body shook the whole mountaintop when she landed and lowered her neck to allow Eragon to saddle her and climb onto her neck. As Eragon looked out across the mountain range they called home now, he ran a hand over Saphira's hard scales and said quietly, "Maybe it's time we go back to Alagaësia."

And with his words, Eragon had considered how he might go about being able to forsake his duties to the Riders her for a month or more to visit the lands he had come from. It would have to be the delivery of the new eggs to Alagaësia he decided, for that was the only excuse he could think of that would allow him to stay away for such a long time. Generally he awarded the task to a deserving Rider, but this once he chose that he would take the eggs to Alagaësia, and he smiled as Saphira hummed at the idea of returning to places where she had been as but a mere hatchling now as a massive and glorious beast. And as Saphira swiveled to ride a thermal that carried her high up, near the peaks of the mountains, he knew that despite the dream he had so many years ago, when he was but fifteen years of age, he would return to Alagaësia, and perhaps this would indeed be the last time he flew across its lands.


	2. Chapter 1: Ilirea

**Author's Note:** In addition to this chapter, I have updated the Prologue to make more sense canonically and I highly recommend re-reading it. Thanks for all the support so far!

**Chapter 1: Ilirea**

Ismira was, by far, one of the best archers in Palacar Valley. Of that she was certain, despite the explosion of population in the area that had followed her father Roran back to the valley. It seemed to her that being a war hero had that sort of effect on people: they wanted to follow you places. And as soon as she was strong enough to draw the string fully, she began to shoot. Despite her father's protests, she found herself shooting against boys and men in the town that filled the valley. And as she aged and developed, she began to have to wear tight-fit clothing, to keep her figure from interfering with her favourite hobby. Now, at the age of twenty, she felt confident enough to go to The Games of Alagaësia. The massive celebration was being held outside Ilirea this year, and she was certain that her father would protest her participation.

But to her surprise, he relented, even as the gates of Aroughs had relented in one of his favourite stories of the war. To even further her surprise, he had asked to ride with her to The Games. His words had been, "No daughter of mine is going to best all of Alagaësia without my seeing it!" To which she had smiled and laughed and embraced him. She did not hate her father, in fact, quite the opposite. She loved her father and knew that through his best efforts to keep her home and safe all he meant was for her safety and happiness. And now that it seemed that he finally respected her abilities and was willing to ride with her to Ilirea, she loved him all the more for it. And now she stood in her room, a homely and quaint room, one that would not be found in the home of a commoner, but not one that would be found in the home of royalty. On her bed sat a large bag, one that would hold all of her clothing and equipment during their travels. With only a month until The Games, her father had said that they would have to leave almost immediately.

Her mother's eyes had watered as she stroked Ismira's full head of copper hair and stuttered out a goodbye. "Y-you be safe! Your father's a fine warrior, but he's getting old. Look out for each other. And by the gods come back to me! I'll have your head if you don't!" Ismira smiled and embraced her mother, knowing that she could fend off any sort of bandit as well as a man. Her father had taught her some swordplay, but he would always say that he could not use a sword as well as his hammer, so she often bested him once she had begun to gain some proficiency with the weapon. She saw now that Roran had his hammer upon his belt and a grim look upon his face.

"We can't afford to be slow, it's nearly a three week ride to Ilirea from here. We'll be hard pressed to make it in that time," he said, his voice hard. She nodded and adjusted her pants slightly before climbing onto the brown and white spotted horse that she had come to favor recently. Roran himself sat upon his favorite horse and the one that Eragon had gifted him, Snowfire. The white stallion gleamed in the morning light as Roran gazed at his home, after which he nodded to Ismira and they set out upon the road. The journey was not hard, but it was not easy either. They were up promptly at dawn almost daily, and Ismira worried that she would ride her poor horse, Windheart, into the ground. Alas though, the horse carried her strongly and endured until Ilirea was on the horizon. As the pair rode closer to the great city, Ismira found her anxiety growing. The great stadium where The Games were to be held was nearing completion, and looked as if it could have held all of Alagaësia within its seats. The city of Iliria itself sat beyond the stadium, and the convoy of people between the city and the stadium seemed endless.

As they rode towards the gates, a mighty red dragon swooped overhead and over the walls of the city, and Roran immediately recognized it as Thorn. _So, _he thought grimly, _Murtagh has returned to Ilirea after all._ Ismira, however, had never seen such a sight before. She had heard stories of the dragons and their riders, but had never seen them before, and the sheer size of the huge dragon staggered her. Roran spoke, noting her awe, "That's Thorn. He fought against Eragon and Saphira in the war. After Galbatorix was killed, he and his Rider, Murtagh, left Alagaësia. Must be they finally worked up the courage to return." Ismira nodded, watching the dragon circle over the city under the overhang that covered it.

"Will Eragon be here do you think?" she asked, continuing to watch Thorn as the dragon turned and disappeared into a huge pair of gates, the same gates that once held Shruiken in the palace. Roran hesitated, thinking of a response.

"No, I think not. He hasn't come to anything in Alagaësia since he left. We're lucky he still remembers to send you presents every year." Ismira frowned at her father as they passed under the huge gates of the city, thinking of the bitterness he still held for Eragon's disappearance. She remained silent however and followed him through the crowded streets, on which vendors shouted about their wares and attempted to ask every person on the street to come browse their selections. Still other people carried goods out the gates towards the looming stadium, and still more stood about, speaking of the days events and of the things of the world. Most talk was of the coming Games however, and Ismira did not hide her smile when many people turned to call out to her father, shouting "Stronghammer!" Roran returned their cries with a wave or a nod, but otherwise continued on his way, leading Ismira through the winding streets.

They worked their way to the quadrangle before the palace, and Ismira gaped at the sheer number of people clamoring to get into the palace to see Queen Nasuada. Roran had spoken of the chaos of Ilirea before upon his return from his yearly visits to the city, but Ismira had never imagined it to be so unreal. As they approached the gates, one of the guards recognized Roran and shouted out, "Make way! Make way for the Earl of Palancar Valley! Make way for Stronghammer!" And surprisingly enough, the crowds parted for the pair. Many people bowed their heads or called out to Roran, even as they had done in the streets of the city. The guard who had shouted nodded to Roran, "Go on in, Stronghammer. The Queen will see you."

Roran dismounted as a stable-hand came and took the horses from the pair, leading them to what Ismira suspected was the royal stables. A guard broke away from the crowd to escort the father and daughter down the quarter-mile corridor to the throne room of the palace of Ilirea. Queen Nasuada stood in front of her throne, speaking to a group of men. Once the men departed, Roran and Ismira approached her, stopping to kneel before her. The Queen spoke, her voice betraying her surprise at the appearance of Roran: "Rise, Earl Stronghammer and Ismira Katrinasdaughter. Welcome to Ilirea. What brings you here, Roran?" The Queen turned, her long dress flowing behind her as she sat in her throne.

Roran gave a slight bow and spoke, "I've brought my daughter to compete in The Games, your Majesty. With your blessing, I would ask that we stay in the city for the duration of them."

"Of course, Stronghammer." The Queen turned and directed her attention to Ismira, who felt her face flush with embarrassment. Ismira had never thought to be standing before the Queen of Alagaësia, much less be asked a question by her. "So, Ismira Katrinasdaughter. What will you be competing in?"

Ismira's face only brightened in redness, and out of the corner of her eye she saw her father's smirk. "A-archery, your Majesty." Nasuada nodded and shifted in her seat.

"You are brave to compete against elves in this endeavor. Few can best them." Ismira's jaw dropped at that realisation. She had completely forgotten that all the races of Alagaësia competed. To compete against elves was terrifying, as if she weren't already anxious enough. As she stood there, her voice stolen from her mouth, the thump of boots brought her out of her stupor. She looked around and saw a tall and strikingly handsome man clad in a simple black and red outfit, and as he approached he stopped a few feet away, adjusting his sword. "Murtagh, don't be shy. Introduce yourself." Nasuada encouraged.

Ismira's shock was near palpable. Here, standing before her, was a Dragon Rider. Coupled with the fact that she had forgotten about elves competing in the games and that she was standing in the throne room of the Queen of the entire land, it was no surprise when her vision faded and the ground rushed up to meet her.

Later, when Ismira awoke, she found herself being hovered over by her father and Murtagh. Roran immediately started speaking, asking her questions. She found her comprehension had not entirely returned so it took her a moment to understand what he was saying. "...okay? Ismira? Hey there! Are you alright? Can you hear me?"

She struggled and tried to sit up, but Roran held her down. "I'm alright! I'm alright. Let me sit up!" She said, pushing the two men aside so she could sit up. "How long was I out?" she asked, taking a deep breath and stretching.

"Not long." Murtagh reassured her. "I only had to touch your mind to wake you up again."

Ismira frowned and looked at him, "You did what?" Murtagh did not reply, but instead Ismira felt a light touch on her mind, as if someone were dragging a painter's brush over her thoughts. She recoiled instinctively, shying away from the man. The touch receded, and she watched him warily.

He nodded, "Don't worry. I haven't done anything to you."

Roran, who had been watching the exchange silently, nodded. "Alright then. Thank you Murtagh." Murtagh nodded and stood, departing in short order. Ismira looked at her father and shuddered, to which Roran nodded. "Be careful of those magician types. You never know with them. Now, let's get you settled."

The rest of the day passed quickly and without incident, as most of Ismira's time was spent exploring the palace and finding some of the many interesting rooms and such within. At one point she found herself within the library, a massive labyrinthine room full of looming bookcases and more tomes and scrolls than she could count. She spent most of her time in the room over the next few days, reading what she could about the world and of the world beyond. She was curious to learn about Murtagh however, and in her search was disappointed to find that there were no texts about him, only mentions in books about the Rider War. He fought in a battle here, or was spotted in another place. Just two days before The Games, she threw her hands up in protest and let out an exasperated sigh. There seemed to be nothing about him, most of the texts she found had information about Eragon or Nasuada before all others. Even texts about Riders or Galbatorix had only mentions of the man.

Frustrated, she gave up and started to leave the library. As she did, she nearly ran over Murtagh as he entered the library. "Oh! Murtagh! Uhm, hello." She said as she collected herself and he caught her to keep her from falling.

"Your father is looking for you," he said simply, moving past her and going to browse the selections within the library.

"Did he, uh, say what for?" she asked, trying to not further make a fool of herself. Murtagh shook his head and pulled a tome from the shelves, not further acknowledging her. Flustered, Ismira left and headed to the room she had been staying in since her arrival in Ilirea. When she arrived at her room, her father was sitting on the bed, a long box across his lap. Confused, Ismira walked over as her father stood and presented her with the box.

"I know you have a bow, but you're going against the best of the best. The elves are going to have the best their craftsmanship can offer. I asked Nasuada if she had anything that would be comparable, and this is what she came up with. I hope you like it," he said as she opened the box, revealing an exquisitely crafted bow in the style of the elves. She did not hide her surprise as she lifted it from its box and strung it gently. It was extremely lightweight and the pull on it must have been half of the bows she had used before. Surely this was an elven bow.

"Where did she get this?" Ismira asked, her eyes betraying her curiosity.

Roran shrugged, "She said that Eragon sent it to her one year. I don't think there's any magic in it, but he made it so it must be similar to what the elves will be using." Ismira nodded and embraced her father, thanking him for the gift. "And be sure to thank the Queen when you get the chance. I doubt she's letting you use it lightly."

The next two days passed in near boredom as Ismira continued to hone her skills and strength with the new bow, which she was still getting used to. At the end of the day before The Games began, Queen Nasuada called both Roran and Ismira to dine with her and the nobles of Ilirea. It turned out to be a huge feast, to which Ismira felt extremely under-dressed for despite wearing her finest dress. The nobles and even Queen Nasuada herself had incredible clothing and jewelry, of which she hoped that she would never have to wear for fear of ruining them. As she mingled amongst the nobles, occasionally being asked questions about who she was or where she came from, she promptly decided that this was not the life she wanted. To be among people of such status all the time was not her place. She would much rather be dealing with real people, people on the streets and farms who weren't so concerned about the politics of the land.

At one point she found herself sitting alone when the Queen approached and sat with her, motioning to the mingling nobles. "They are not terribly exciting, I know. Have you enjoyed your stay in Ilirea thus far?"

Ismira, much more used to being around people of status at this point, nodded and smiled. "Yes your Majesty. It is a wondrous city. I wish I had more time to spend among the streets and vendors however."

"Ah, yes. You are your father's daughter after all. He was never much one for all this pomp and circumstance either."

Ismira nodded, uncertain of how to continue. "Yes. I appreciate your gift, your highness-"

"No thanks are necessary, Ismira. And please, call me Lady Nasuada, or Nasuada. Your father and I worked closely during the war, there is no reason why I cannot extend the same courtesies to you as I afford to him."

Ismira nodded, again uncertain of how to continue with the Queen. "So you were close to Eragon?" she decided, but almost immediately regretted the question.

The look on Nasuada's face became grim, and she nodded. "Yes, we were. We did not agree on certain topics. I suppose he was right, things have not been too out of control." Confusion crossed Ismira's mind, so she inquired about the differences of opinion, to which Nasuada sighed. "We normal humans, dwarves, and Urgals even are at the mercy of magic-users. I asked Eragon to create a governing body for the magic-users of the land. He disagreed that it was necessary, and in the same breath told me he was leaving Alagaësia. I will admit I am still not pleased with his decision."

Ismira nodded, a thousand questions in her head. She chose not to ask them though, as the topic was obviously unpleasant. "I am sorry if I displeased you, Lady Nasuada. I was curious."

"Of course, I understand. You are interested to know more about your mysterious uncle who sends you, myself, your father, everyone he was close to gifts and letters every year. He is a good man. I believe that. I do not think he has changed. He was right too when he took the Riders out of this land. I have heard stories from the riders he has sent back to us of him, how he is still the Eragon I knew." Nasuada paused, contemplating how best to broach the topic. "He loves Roran. And Katrina. And you, Ismira. This I know. He was close to Queen Arya. Very close."

"Queen Arya, the queen of the elves?"

"The very same. I believe he was close to Murtagh, before Murtagh became Galbatorix's slave, but afterwards..." She sighed again. "They were never the same after Eragon killed Galbatorix. Even to this day Murtagh will not speak of Eragon."

"And what of you and Murtagh? I heard that he aided you when you were kidnapped."

"Yes, he was very kind to me. But Galbatorix changed him. He has never been the same since. Murtagh and I are close, you could say."

"Are you...?" Ismira asked.

"Involved? With Murtagh?" Nasuada smiled. "Yes. I can see why you would fancy him though."

Ismira flushed, looking away. "I did not know. I apologize."

"It is no trouble to me. I appreciate you asking before doing anything too foolish however."

After that, they spoke of smaller, more simple things and after a time the Queen excused herself to go dance with Murtagh as the band in the corner of the room struck up a merry tune. The rest of the night was spent in frustration for Ismira, and eventually she excused herself from a few of the nobles and took her leave for the evening, claiming she needed her rest before The Games the next day. When dawn broke the next morning, Ismira looked out over the city from one of the windows of her room, and realized the city was mostly empty. No doubt the people were gathering in and around the stadium where The Games were to take place, and Ismira dressed in her typical archery outfit, a tight shirt, pants, and some hunting boots Eragon had sent her one year. She shouldered her bow and checked to be sure it was in good order, before making her way to the quadrangle where her father waited for her.

Together they made their way outside the city and to the entrance to the massive stadium, a huge pair of gates that allowed admittance to all who had come, with several areas set aside for persons to put their names down to compete. "Nasuada had someone put your name in for the archery contest already, so we don't have to deal with that. You know when you compete, yes?"

"Yes, Father," she said, watching the constantly moving crowds within the interior of the stadium. She was set to compete in the evening of this day, when the sun was low and the shadows long, for that made for some of the hardest shooting conditions good weather would allow.

The day was bright and clear as Ismira and Roran took their spots in Nasuada's private section of the stands, where only nobles and personal friends of the Queen and others were allowed. The first competition of the day was wrestling, in which mostly dwarves and Urgals competed. A stunning display by an elf however left the rest of the competitors unable to continue, and so the elves took the first of the prizes to be handed out during the few days during which The Games raged. Competition after competition was presented, both mundane and magical, and even some a test of wits and skill more than strength or athletic prowess. And when finally the hour came for Ismira to descend below and prepare for her challenges, she found herself alone among the elves there. At one point she thought she saw another human amongst the group preparing their bows and gloves, testing their clothing to make sure they would have enough freedom of movement, but she lost sight of him almost immediately.

She shook her head, trying to focus as the elves around her spoke in what must have been their native tongue, the Ancient Language. And finally when she was ready to go, she formed up with the rest of the competitors and prepared to file out onto the arena above. The large wooden doors parted, and she was momentarily blinded by the light from the outside. A few people were gathered to watch them depart, including one man with a cloak hiding his face and body. As she passed him, he leaned forward and whispered into her ear briefly a phrase in the Ancient Language, one she did not understand. She regarded him, bewildered, but she was forced to walk out under the falling sun as the names of those around her were called, until finally her name was announced to all of the people gathered: "And lastly, Ismira Katrinasdaughter, of Palancar Valley!" A huge roar went up as her name was called, and she realized that many people from Palancar Valley had come to cheer her on, something that gave her a small measure of hope as she prepared to compete among the world's greatest archers.


	3. Chapter 2: Moonrise

**Chapter 2: Moonrise**

Ismira had dreaded being outclassed, and was even more terrified when she discovered that she was correct. The elves must have practiced for more than her lifespan for The Games and the chance to compete in them. No doubt even among the elves themselves they had selected the best of the best to compete. When all was said and done, Ismira didn't even come close, even in the second and third rounds, the targets and moving targets, one of her best-honed skills. The elves and judges measured by less than an inch, and the targets only got farther and farther away, so when Ismira's shots started to move from the center of the target to the outer rings, it was only bitterness at her arrogance that she felt. As she sat in Queen Nasuada's dining hall, she found herself once again alone amongst the nobles and people who had come to congratulate the Queen on the few awards that humans had taken. Roran sat at the same table as her, eating silently and watching the nobles mingle and speak amongst themselves. Occasionally one of the many gathered would approach and speak to Roran, but only for a short time before moving on to others.

As the night grew long, Ismira noticed that the Queen was actively avoiding Roran and Ismira. On more than one occasion Roran had tried to catch her eye, but the Queen had almost immediately looked away and begun speaking to Murtagh or another noble. It occurred to Ismira that Roran had noticed the Queen's ignorance and he finally stood and looked to Ismira. "If the Queen will invite us to dine with her, then ignore us, then we have no reason to be here." He said, nodding and folding his arms across his chest. "I don't want to stay longer than I have to anyway. Let's go, Ismira." Ismira stood, willing to follow her father yet even as they departed she could feel the Queen's eyes on her and her father, watching them take their leave as a hawk would watch its prey.

Ismira, after sharing a few words with her father, took her leave and found herself alone in her room, sitting on the bed and examining the bow her father and the Queen had gifted to her. The words that the hooded figure had whispered to her echoed in her mind, even though she had not, and still did not understand it. _Waíse óhræddr. What could it mean? Did he doom me to fail? Did he-_

A voice not her own rang out: _No._

Ismira leaped to her feet, grabbing an arrow from the quiver she had laid on the bed and nocking it. "Who's there? Who said that?" She called, looking around her room and drawing the bowstring slowly as she did so. "Hello? Come out where I can see you!" The room around her was still, and only the sound of the wind outside her window disturbed the silence. Ismira turned slowly, examining each area of her room in turn as she did so. After a few long moments of no activity, Ismira began to relax, her eyes giving one last glance around the room before lowering the bow and allowing its string to slowly slide back to its original position. Mere seconds later however, a knock came on Ismira's door and she yelped, jumping slightly and raising the bow, pulling it to a full draw. "W-Who's there?" She said, her fear betrayed in her voice.

"The Queen requests a few moments of your time," a man's voice said, no doubt a guard. Surprised and confused, Ismira dropped the bow to the bed and rushed to open the door for Nasuada. The Queen, still dressed in her fine garb from the party, entered quietly and motioned for Ismira to follow her.

"I'm sorry to surprise you, but I wanted to speak to you without fear of others listening in on us." Nasuada led Ismira onto the balcony overlooking the quadrangle before the palace as the guard that had introduced Nasuada stepped inside and stood just inside Ismira's door, watching the pair silently.

"Of course my Lady. I apologize for being on edge, something strange happened to me." Ismira said, trying to recall the voice that had spoken. She was certain that she had heard it, it had been so clear and crisp, how could she not have heard it?

"Oh? Hearing things, Ismira?"

"Well, yes, m'Lady. I was thinking about something that happened before the competition today, and I thought I heard a man say something."

"What did the voice say?"

"Just 'No'."

Queen Nasuada folded her hands behind her back and straightened her stance slightly. "Was it spoken, you're sure?"

"Well, I..." Ismira stopped. She was unsure of whether it had been spoken or not. If it wasn't spoken, it would make sense as to why it had been so clear. "I don't know."

Nasuada sighed. "It would appear that a magician has taken an interest in you. I will have Murtagh place wards-"

"No! I wouldn't ask him to do that. I'm quite alright, and I can handle myself. We're made of strong stuff in Palancar Valley."

The Queen nodded, "As you wish. I will be posting a guard outside your door though."

"Very well."

"Now, about what I originally came here for."

"Yes, Lady Nasuada?"

"About the competition today-" 

"I know. I failed, and I disappointed you and-"

"No. Ismira, I am proud of you. You represented Alagaësia proudly and with honor. I am glad you decided to compete, even if you lost. I would ask you, now that you have seen the elves in action and have seen the challenges that will be in front of you during The Games, that you train hard in the coming year and participate again, with my official endorsement."

Ismira's surprise was evident on her face as she spoke, "Oh, I, yes! Of course! I would be honored."

Nasuada nodded and grinned, her eyes locking with Ismira's, "Good, good. I had hoped you would accept."

"To be fair, your Majesty, who am I to turn down the request of a Queen?"

The Queen's grin faded and Nasuada's eyes returned to the city below. The sound of the fountain below filled the silence between them, and Ismira quickly became uncomfortable as her mind raced, trying to think of anything to avoid upsetting the Lady again. Before Ismira could speak however, Nasuada said, "Do you enjoy this, Ismira? This peace. There's no war. No fighting. Occasionally one of the races will argue with another, but it never amounts to anything. Is this the right way of the world?"

"My Queen, I don't think I'm who you should be asking about that."

"I want to hear what you think. You don't like all these nobles. You are intimidated by me, and even by them, even if you won't admit it. You have your father's pride. Is it better to smile and bow to your enemy's faces and plot behind their backs? Or is it better to fight it out?"

Ismira was confused and entirely uncertain where the Queen was going with this line of questioning, so she chose her words carefully. "I think it's best to keep the squabbles of the nobles just that. Don't involve everyone else in a personal insult."

The Queen smiled and nodded. "I understand, but you are naïve. Those of status are selfish and vain. I have heard tales of kings that have marched to war just because another did not address him by the correct title."

"Forgive me, Lady Nasuada, but why are you talking about this with me?"

"No, you are right. These things do not concern you. I will take my leave now. Thank you for accepting my offer to represent Alagaësia in the next Games." And with that, the Queen departed. Ismira stood for a long time, pondering what the Queen had said. There was almost no doubt in Ismira's mind that Nasuada was planning to act upon some notion, but Ismira did not know what. Looking down at the fountain that provided the only sound in the silent night, Ismira sighed and wondered to herself what storm may be brewing on the horizon of the future.

After that night, Ismira saw little of the Queen, and as The Games continued on, until the end of the week, Ismira found herself more and more alone in Ilirea and in the stadium. Even as the games continued, Ismira found her thoughts drifting more and more to the conversation she had held with Nasuada and of her return to Palancar Valley. After her defeat, Ismira had hoped that her father would agree for them to leave almost immediately, but he had insisted that they stay for the duration of The Games, claiming it to be a "once in a lifetime event" that he may not have the honor of attending in the years ahead. And so the days passed quickly as Ismira found ways to entertain herself during the less exciting events, and watching those she was interested in with a smile and laughter as her father and her cheered for those they chose as favorites. And when the games finally drew to a close with Murtagh and Thorn leading the closing ceremonies, her father insisted that they stay just a few more days before departing. Exasperated and knowing she would never sway her father otherwise Ismira found her days empty yet again, and so she held her promise to the Queen and filled her hours, straining her muscles and skills with her bow, trying her best to replicate the challenges she had faced within the Games.

When it finally came time for Roran and Ismira to depart Ilirea, Ismira welcomed it with an open mind and a smile on her face. Saying her due goodbyes to the Queen and Murtagh was awkward in Ismira's eyes, as the Queen gave Ismira some sort of knowing look, as if she expected Ismira to say or do something in particular before departing. Nothing came of it however, and Ismira and Roran departed in short order, heading past the stadium that was already being dismantled and moved back onto wagons and shoulders and being taken into the city, where it would be used for other purposes until the Games arrived in the next year. The journey back to Palancar Valley was only interrupted by a small storm that went as quickly as it came, and left the pair and their horses drenched and dripping. "Fast moving storm, that one. Don't see those very often." Roran said, watching the clouds overhead. Ismira couldn't help but watch the clouds with only passing interest, as her father had always been one for spending time in the rain or under the cover of clouds, claiming that it made working on the farm in the summer much more enjoyable. Ismira much rather would have gone out in the sun and spent a fine day shooting than spend her time working under the cold, heartless clouds. And so they rode under the cover of clouds, until finally they came into view of the old, crumbling watchtower that overlooked the southern tip of Palancar Valley.

Roran and Ismira returned to Carvahall shortly after that, their excitement betrayed in their increased pace over the last few miles, and when they arrived, they arrived to the cheers of the people in the growing town. Despite Ismira's failure, it seemed that the news of one of the ruling family of Palancar Valley being involved in The Games excited the people. Or, Ismira suspected, news of her failure had not yet reached the place of her birth, which worried her. She did not wish to tarnish her father's name by failing to represent her family properly, especially since as a woman she was not always granted the same opportunities or lenience as a man. Ismira looked out over the smiling and waving faces, a weak smile coming to her face as she returned waves with a small, acknowledging raise of her hand. Upon the arrival of the pair at their home, safe within the castle walls, Ismira noticed something significantly out of place when her mother did not immediately rush out of the hall to welcome them. Roran spoke first on the matter, "Where's your mother?" Just as Roran and Ismira dismounted before the stable-hand took the reins of Summerset and Windheart and led them off, Ismira's mother exited the gates of the keep, leading behind her an elf.

Roran stood looking at the elf, his jaw slack and his expression that of pure awe. "Hello Roran." The elf said, his voice a mixture of music and seriousness. The elf approached Roran and Ismira, and as soon as he was within reach, Roran swung his arm in a wide, arcing punch. The elf slapped the blow aside with little to no effort, as far as Ismira could tell, and faster than her eyes could register. "I know." the elf said, and Ismira realized that this was the voice she had heard in the darkness that night before Queen Nasuada had come to speak with her.

"Eragon! You... you left! What in blazes are you doing here?" Roran said, his voice full of anger and confusion. Ismira, on the other hand, was simply dumbstruck. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. _This_ was Eragon? _The _Eragon?

Eragon simply stood and folded his arms over his chest, "I've returned. I wanted to visit everyone, and bringing the dragon eggs to the races was the best way to excuse myself from my duties in _Du Vardafells_."

"I never thought I'd see you again." Roran said simply, his hands balling into fists.

"I never thought to return." Eragon responded. "I wanted to see you, and Katrina, and you Ismira." Eragon turned to look at Ismira, his eyes seeming to hold back a torrent of passion and fire.

Ismira stuttered out a response, "H-hello, Eragon."

"You've grown quite a bit since the last time I've seen you. The talk of the town is that you've been in The Games. I am sorry to hear of your defeat."

Ismira cringed, "The elves are just better, that's all." There were a thousand things she wanted to say to him, ask him about the dragons and Riders and where he had been all these years, but she knew to hold her tongue. Hopefully she would have the time to ask all of her questions before he vanished again. Eragon nodded and held her gaze, seeming as if he were about to speak, but his mouth remained shut.

"Where's Saphira?" Roran asked.

"She should be along shortly now. She went hunting about an hour ago." Katrina said. "Shall we go inside?"

"Yes, let's. We have some catching up to do," Roran said, watching Eragon warily.

As the group moved inside, a huge dragon swooped overhead, her scales glittering in the sunlight as she landed with a massive _woosh_ of air and a thud that shook the entire complex. Ismira couldn't help but gape up at her, and the dragon turned a giant sapphire eye to gaze at Ismira and Roran. Eragon stopped and turned to regard her, watching her silently. Roran looked at Ismira and leaned close, whispering to his daughter: "They're talking. Dragons can't speak to us except through thought."

"She'd like to talk with you all, if you'd be willing," Eragon said finally, looking back to Roran, Ismira, and Katrina.

"Of course, she need not ask." Katrina said, curtsying slightly towards Saphira. Roran glowered at his wife, but nodded.

"Oh, uh..." Ismira was unsure of how to proceed, she had no idea what to say to the massive beast before her.

_I am no beast, hatchling. _Saphira said, her voice filling Ismira's mind like a flood of water. Dread filled Ismira, and she recoiled as she had done when Murtagh had first touched her mind. _Do not be afraid little one. I am Saphira. _Despite Saphira's reassurance, Ismira still found the thought that a dragon was in her mind terrifying. Saphira snorted, letting out a puff of smoke and raising her head to regard the group as a whole. _She would not make a very good Rider._

"H-hey!" Ismira said, stamping her foot. "You're a dragon, we don't all get to be big and tough!"

Saphira snorted again, her head coming down to look Ismira in the face. _I like her though. She's got spirit._

"I'm right here, thank you very much."

"Come on Ismira, we'll talk more once we're inside." Roran prompted, and Ismira reluctantly followed the others into the keep, with Saphira snaking her head into the great hall through the open gates to keep an eye on the proceedings within.

"So, you're probably wondering why I really came back." Eragon said, sitting in a chair after the rest of the gathered family had done so. "The lands beyond Alagaësia are not empty. In fact, there are many people there. Humans, mostly, but still people. I came to request from Queen Nasuada some men to come and establish relations with the people there. They do not know of us, or the Riders, and I do not want to be the one to open dialogue with them on the back of Saphira. I have also brought a dragon egg to each of the major cities in Alagaësia, and this is our last stop before Ilirea. Should the last egg hatch here, I will take the new Rider to Ilirea, meet with Nasuada, and then return to _Du Vardafells._"

Roran folded his arms over his chest. "No. Don't you do that to us, Eragon. I won't let you leave again."

Eragon sighed, "I was afraid of this. How could you stop me, Roran?"

Roran clenched his fists and slammed one down on the armrest of his chair, "This is why you need to be here! All you magic-users have so much more power than the rest of us! At least if you were here you would answer to Nasuada, same as me!" Roran stood and stormed from the room, swearing to himself. Eragon looked disheartened at Roran's temper, but nodded slowly.

"I have already taken the egg to the streets and given all who would try the chance to have it hatch for them. The only ones left are you and Roran," Eragon said, looking at Ismira.

"Roran will have none of it, I can tell you." Katrina said, watching woefully after her husband.

Eragon nodded, "I understand. And what of you, Ismira? Will you try your hand?"

Ismira sat quietly, thinking hard. To become a Rider had always been one of Ismira's dreams. She remembered back to when she was a young lass, barely a decade old, when one of the young men from Carvahall had a dragon egg hatch for him. She had dreamed of having a dragon of her own for many months after that, often going out into what little of the forest she was allowed into and pretending to teach her dragon the names of things. "I'm too old, aren't I?"

With a smile, Eragon said, "No. Not at all. Having a dragon will extend your life long beyond your normal years. It is part of their magic. I suppose you do not have to choose now, but Saphira and I will be departing in the morning, so you'd best decide by then."

Ismira nodded, feeling the pressure of the question. "I will give it a try, but not now. Can we eat?"

Eragon smiled and Katrina laughed and nodded, "Yes, of course. I'll start on dinner."

Later that evening, after a tense dinner and a quiet but comfortable lull in conversation afterwards, Ismira excused herself for the evening. Eragon stopped her for a moment and handed her a bundle of cloth, in which Ismira knew was the dragon egg. That he trusted her so much as to let her take it to her room alone surprised her, but she figured that there were many enchantments upon the egg that would alert Eragon of any ill intentions towards it. After that, Ismira retreated to her room, placing the bundle onto her bed gently and unraveling the cloth until the egg was revealed.

It shone in the moonlight, to which Ismira's attention was drawn when she realized how full the moon actually was. "Nearly full," she whispered to the egg as much as to herself. As she sat on her bed, cross-legged and wrists resting neatly on her knees, she couldn't help but wonder what would happen if the egg hatched for her, and even more she considered how she would go about getting it to hatch. _Should I just touch it?_ She wondered. Frustrated and nervous, she stood and moved to stand by the window in her room, looking out over the courtyard below. Finally she gave up and turned, storming over to the bed and placing her hand fully on the egg. Its marbled white and silver texture did not betray how smooth it actually was, and she hesitated as her hand lay on it. She did not know how long it could take for the egg to hatch. She lifted the egg gently, holding it in both of her arms and moving to sit on the sill before the window. She sat there for a long while, cradling the egg and wondering if she was supposed to say or do anything else. For a while she sat in silence, trying to distract herself from the fact that she had a dragon egg in her arms. Once she thought she felt it move, but it had just been the feeling of falling that she had felt as she began to drift to sleep. And then it moved again.

_No, no no!_ Ismira thought to herself, _Why? This isn't right! I'm just Ismira. I'm not a Rider. Saphira was right, I don't have what it takes to do this. A dragon? What was I thinking? _But despite her thoughts, a single crack formed on the side of the egg. She stood and rushed the egg to the bed as the crack turned into two, and then eight, and so on. She sat in awe as the cracks covered the egg, and then all at once it shattered, revealing a sparkling silver-white dragon. As the moonlight hit the dragon, its scales caught and refracted the light, sending sparkles throughout the room and making her watch in amazement as it crawled about, examining its surroundings. _A dragon! In my room!_ Ismira stood beside her bed, her mouth half-open and wondering if she should run to Eragon and tell him what had happened. The dragon looked up at her and squeaked, letting out a tiny puff of smoke. Ismira stared, unsure of what it could want. "O-oh! You're probably hungry! Who knows how long you've been in there." Ismira said, dashing from the room. She scoured the kitchen and found a few leftover strips of meat from dinner before promptly returning.

The dragon had crawled its way over to the ledge by the window, and was looking out over the courtyard. Ismira approached the dragon and proffered one of the strips to it, to which the dragon sniffed it and snatched it from her hand. Ismira jumped, unsure of whether it was dangerous to allow the dragon's teeth near her hand or not. The dragon, upon finishing the strip of meat, looked up at her and squeaked again. Ismira fed the dragon until it would have no more of the meat, and Ismira set the rest of it aside in its wrapping. "You should probably go ahead and touch it." Eragon said, making Ismira jump and spin around to face him with a yelp.

"W-why?"

"Well, if you're going to be a rider you need to have one of these," he said, showing his right palm to her. She examined the silvery mark that was on his hand, and she gave him a questioning look. "It's a _gedwëy ignasia_. The mark of a Rider. I won't lie, it's not the most pleasant of experiences, but it needs to be done."

"But... Why me?"

Eragon shrugged. "I do not know. Only she knows." He indicated the dragon.

"It's a she?"

Eragon nodded, watching the tiny dragon silently. What was going through his mind, she could not guess. Finally she turned and approached the dragon, and it swiveled its head around to look at her with sharp, crystal clear gray eyes. She sat, and the dragon climbed into her lap and curled up into a ball of scales and tiny ridges along its neck. Ismira looked to Eragon once more for confirmation, and he nodded to her. She reached down and touched the dragon, and what could only have been a lightning bolt of energy raced up her arm and through her body, leaving her body revolting against her as she tensed and collapsed onto the ground, sending the dragon flying through the air and leaving it squealing. She lay on the ground, her whole body burning and out of the corner of her limited vision she saw Eragon sigh and sit on the bed, waiting for the episode to finish. When she finally regained control of herself, she sat up slowly, flexing her burning limbs. The tingle of energy was still in her bones, but she was able to stand slowly and stagger to the bed, where Eragon and the dragon waited. She looked at her hand, and found that the same diffused oval that Eragon bore rested upon her palm as well. Eragon watched her in silence as she examined the _gedwëy ignasia_ upon her palm.

As Ismira sat with him, she felt her mind begin to drift away from her body, and, frightened, she grabbed Eragon's arm for support, to make sure that she was not flying away from herself. "Be careful, the dragon will touch your mind." He said simply, watching her and the dragon. She sat in silence until a strong, determined touch grabbed at her mind. She recoiled at first, squeezing Eragon's arm, but relaxed as she began to recognize the touch of the dragon's mind. It curled up beside her, watching her silently as a feeling of contentment and safety washed over her. Eragon nodded and stood, "I'll take my leave then. We'll speak more in the morning. Goodnight Ismira." Ismira nodded to him as he left, leaving her with the dragon. She decided finally that now was not the time for thoughts, but instead rest. The dragon seemed to agree with her, and as she lay in her bed, the dragon curled up against her stomach and began to let out a content purr-like noise as she rested a hand on its scaled neck and shoulder, and soon sleep overwhelmed her.


	4. Chapter 3: The Nameless

**Chapter 3: The Nameless**

_Ismira stood in her room, clad in little more than a nightgown. The lights were doused and no hint of the moon entered through the windows. The only source of light was that of a single candle in her hand, lit with a weak and flickering flame. Ismira's hands trembled as she looked around the room, searching for her dragon. The silver dragon was nowhere to be seen, and Ismira noticed a glint out of the corner of her eye. She turned, quickly, and saw only her own reflection in the mirror on the wall. As she approached the mirror, her image twisted and changed, and a large silver dragon took her place within the mirror. Ismira stood, her mouth half open and her hand holding the candle lowered slightly. The dragon within the mirror turned and began to walk away, its tail flicking out and shattering the mirror as it did so._

_Behind the mirror stood a sturdy wrought iron door. Ismira approached it, her free hand reaching out for the handle. Before her trembling hand could touch it, the door swung wide and a black void sucked Ismira through the opening and snuffed out the candle. Ismira tumbled through the emptiness, her screams empty and silent as she fell. When she finally landed, she found herself dressed in the war garb of a soldier, a heavy sword in her hand and a firm shield upon her other arm. As if pulled by puppet strings, Ismira raised her sword and pointed it at the throat of Eragon, who lay upon the earth, his eyes wide with fear. The battle around them continued to rage, ignoring Ismira and Eragon as if the smoke of the dwindling fires and the smell of sulfur clouded the events unfolding before her very eyes from all others._

_Without a word, Ismira raised her sword and brought it down, and Eragon's horror was echoed in his scream of agony. She raised it and brought it down again. And again. And again. Until the screaming stopped and the only sound that could be heard was the roar of Saphira as she tumbled from the sky, closely followed by Ismira's dragon. All around Ismira, men and women of all races stopped to stare at Ismira. She looked across their faces, then towards Saphira and Ismira's dragon, a twisted smile on her face and a laugh coming from her throat as the white beast bested Saphira. Her mind reached out and touched all around her, and they too began to laugh. And laugh they all did, until they had tears streaming down their faces and were bent at the waist, unable to contain themselves. As they stood there, laughing and rolling on the earth, the earth itself began to quake, as if laughing with them._

_And then Ismira awoke._

The rumbling that Ismira thought was an earthquake was in fact Eragon shaking her awake, a welcome release until she processed the sounds around her. "Ismira! Ismira! Wake up!" Ismira was pulled roughly from the bed and stood on her feet, where she quickly rubbed her eyes, looking around the room. Eragon stood before her, holding her shoulders. "Ismira! Listen to me. Where is your dragon?" Ismira gave Eragon a bewildered look, and Eragon swore loudly, shouting outside. "Saphira! Go look for the dragon! She can't have gone far."

"Eragon! What's all this shouting?" Roran said, bursting into Ismira's room.

Eragon swore again, "She's gone! Ismira's dragon is gone. We have to find her."

"Ismira's...? No! You bastard you! You brought that damned egg here and you gave it to Ismira! You made it hatch for her! It's not enough for you to go away forever by yourself, is it?"

"Listen to me, Roran! There are more important things at stake here! If it's been stolen, who knows what could happen! The last time someone stole a dragon, Galbatorix rose to power!" Eragon said, overruling Roran by sheer strength of words rather than volume. It appeared as if Roran was shaken to his core, and the man looked towards Ismira, despair and sorrow in his eyes. That lasted only for a moment, however, until the fires of Roran's rage swelled up, and he tackled Eragon.

"I don't care if there are ten more Galbatorix's! You won't take my daughter from me!" Roran bellowed, his words shaking the room as he struggled with Eragon, his fists flying and his knees kicking. Finally Eragon seemed to regain his balance and he leisurely threw Roran off of him, rising to his feet and pinning Roran to the ground with one foot.

"This. Is. More. Important." Eragon said, and all was silent in the room. Roran didn't cease struggling, however, and finally Eragon let the man up. "Look, I understand, Ismira is important. And at the moment, she's more important than anyone in Alagaësia. Myself included. If we can't find her dragon, the entire order of Riders is in danger. Nevermind what a twisted mind could do to a baby dragon."

Outside, Saphira's roar shook the entire city of Carvahall. _There's no sign of the dragon._

Eragon swore and looked at Ismira. "My wards on the dragon ended as soon as it hatched. Ismira, please, what do you remember last about the dragon?"

"I fell asleep with it curled up against me. I don't remember anything else."

"Nothing at all?" Eragon said, reaching his hand out to stop Roran from saying anything. Ismira just shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. As soon as the dragon had come it was gone. She hadn't even had a chance to name it. "All right. All right. There's still a chance to save this. Roran, I need your help."

"You won't get a single man out of me, Eragon _Kingkiller._" Roran spat the last name. "I have no reason to help you when you've come to take the only thing left to me."

"Will your men follow your order to disobey _Eragon _Kingkiller?" Eragon said, his voice a razor. Roran had no words, and so Eragon returned his attention to Ismira. "Ismira, look, if you're leaving out any detail…"

"I'm not! I don't know what happened!" Eragon sighed and nodded, turning and moving to the mirror that stood on Ismira's dresser. He simply looked at the mirror and its surface rippled and turned entirely black. Ismira couldn't help but watch in awe as Eragon continued to stare at the mirror, and after a moment he began to whisper to himself, the intensity of his concentration leaving the room so quiet that she could almost make out the words he was saying. Roran and Ismira could only watch, unsure of what exactly Eragon was doing. Finally, after what must have been minutes, Eragon relaxed, letting the mirror return to normal and turning to look at the pair. Before he spoke, Katrina entered the room, a worried look on her face.

"I came as soon as I heard that something was going on. What's happening?"

"Ismira's dragon is missing." Eragon said, sighing. "I just attempted to scry it, but someone is being very creative with their attempts to hide the dragon. I cannot find it."

Another roar from Saphira drew the attention of all assembled. _Murtagh is here._ She said, her voice low and cautious.

Eragon looked up, projecting his thoughts to all: _Thorn as well?_

_Yes._

Eragon swore loudly and darted from the room. The three raced after him, but arrived significantly after Eragon. Outside the castle, Saphira crouched just across the road that led to the castle from Thorn, upon whose back sat Murtagh, clad in a simple suit of armor. "Do I have your attention, Eragon?" Murtagh shouted, his voice magically amplified to reverberate through the city.

"Murtagh, I don't know what you're playing at, but this has gone far enough." Eragon said, only speaking loud enough so that Murtagh could hear him. As Eragon spoke, people began to trickle out of the nearby homes to see what was amiss. Many gaped in wonder at the two brightly contrasted dragons, while others watched in grim silence.

"Queen Nasuada of Alagaësia has requested the presence of Eragon Kingkiller. To refuse would be unwise." With his words, Murtagh produced Ismira's dragon, shackled and muzzled.

"Murtagh, you're making a mistake. Give the dragon back to its Rider." Eragon said, his words laced with unspoken threats.

"She will accompany you to Ilirea. Come along now, Eragon." Murtagh's voice still rebounded off of the stone walls, and the remaining silence left after them was humbling. "If you do not, Miss Katrinasdaughter will not be departing with you to _Du Vardafells._"

Eragon just stared at Murtagh, his face as solemn as the Spine's tallest peaks. "You can't stop me, Murtagh."

"Can't I? One word, one twist, and one of your precious Riders is dragon-less. The first of many to come."

"You know that would be war with the Riders, and as insane as Galbatorix."

"Then I suggest you accompany me to speak with the Queen."

"Murtagh, don't do this! What happened to you?" Ismira shouted suddenly. "What happened to the dignified, quiet man who danced with the Queen? It makes no sense. This… this…" Ismira would have said that the events before her were unprecedented, but she wasn't so sure now. After her conversation with Queen Nasuada, Ismira wasn't convinced that Nasuada's comment about Ismira being naïve in respect to squabbles between nobles was such an idle sentiment. Perhaps this was Nasuada's way of getting back at Eragon for refusing her request.

_Planning for t__wenty years to exact petty revenge is below Nasuada._ Saphira projected at least to Ismira and Eragon, of that Ismira was certain. Eragon made no reply, but instead simply folded his arms across his chest and seemed to relax, watching Murtagh as if he were no more than a boy. Murtagh appeared confused, his eyes scrutinizing Eragon. Murtagh shifted in his saddle and looked towards Ismira.

And then Ismira's world exploded. She was certain her mind was being split in two as the raging hot iron seared her thoughts and numbed all feeling or thought. Almost immediately she collapsed to the earth, seizing and screaming silent screams. Eragon immediately turned away from Murtagh and viewed Ismira with that same look, and then Ismira felt a wash of warm, healing thoughts cover her mind. Murtagh swore aloud and then, "That's a dirty trick, Eragon."

"You're the one playing dirty Murtagh," Eragon said. Ismira dared not move, not while she wasn't sure what would happen in the next few seconds, much less of what was happening around her in the first place. Out of the corner of her vision she saw Roran pull his hammer from his belt as Eragon knelt and placed a hand on Ismira's shoulder.

"Put away your toy, Stronghammer." Murtagh said, "It will not help your daughter any more than it will help this dragon." With his words, Murtagh brandished his blade and held it mere millimeters from the helpless creature's chest. "I swear by all of Alagaësia that I will slay this beast before you move two steps, Roran."

"Do it then, and rid us of you troublesome spellcasters! My daughter will have no part of the Riders." Roran said, his voice fire.

"As you wish." Murtagh replied.

"_Blothr!_" Eragon shouted, and Murtagh momentarily froze in place as Saphira pounced and tackled Thorn to the ground, throwing the tiny dragon from Murtagh's hands and onto the ground, where it squirmed towards Ismira as best as its shackled legs could. Murtagh let out a primal yell as Thorn and Saphira crashed to the ground, their roars and snarls scattering the gathered townspeople, who ran from the encounter screaming.

Ismira stood and scooped up the tiny dragon into her arms as Eragon produced a sword from apparently nowhere and shouted something that Ismira could not hear over the clashing dragons and grabbed Ismira and threw her over his shoulder. Roran moved to stop him, but Eragon simply shook his head and held his sword ready. Ismira began to kick and yell, squirming against Eragon's iron grip. Saphira leaped away from Thorn and Eragon immediately jumped onto Saphira's neck and placed Ismira in front of him, saying urgently, "Do _not _drop that dragon." Ismira nodded and clenched the tiny beast in her arms as she realized there would be no proper goodbye for her parents, and it promptly buried its face in the crook of her arm.

Saphira's claws dug gouges into the earth as she leaped into the air, letting loose another roar that shook the city and accelerating quickly until the wind whipped Ismira's hair. The impossibly powerful sweeps of Saphira's wings propelled them faster than Ismira would have thought possible, and she found herself squeezing her legs against Saphira's neck, for fear of falling. _Take us home Saphira._ Eragon said, his voice ringing in Ismira's ears even over the gusts of wind that filled them. Behind them, Thorn's roar filled the skies, and Ismira felt Eragon twist against her, she presumed to make sure that Thorn and Murtagh were not following them.

As he returned to his prior position, Ismira couldn't help but let her mind drift to the spectacle of the clouds and earth a blur under her. The dragon in her arms seemed to share the sentiment briefly, but mostly fear and confusion washed out of it. She tried to convey a reassuring sentiment but wasn't entirely sure that her intention was clear, as the dragon simply let out a slight squeak and did not change its thoughts much. _Not thoughts, hatchling. Emotions._ Saphira relayed. Ismira jumped, the vast sound of her voice startling her. Eragon was forced to grab her tightly to keep her from falling out of the saddle as the force of the wind began to separate her from Saphira.

"Hold on tight," He said, his voice still full of bite from the encounter with Murtagh.

Ismira tentatively reached out with her mind, looking to touch Saphira's mind. She had many questions about her dragon and what had just happened with Murtagh, most of which she was sure Saphira could answer. What Ismira encountered was beyond what she expected, a sheer cliff that radiated energy and strength and stopped Ismira's incursion with no more than its existence. Upon touching Saphira's mind, Ismira immediately recoiled, still uncertain of the proper way to go about approaching something so immense. When Saphira retaliated, Ismira felt terror fill her and she pulled away from the mind of the dragon. _What is it, hatchling?_ Saphira said, her voice echoing in Ismira's mind. Ismira gripped the dragon in her arms tightly, and it squirmed against Ismira.

_I'm sorry, I just... Just had some questions._ Ismira said, certain that her thoughts betrayed her fear.

_Of course you do. Ask them, little one. _

Ismira found herself unsure of where to begin. She took a moment to gather herself as Saphira's mind loomed over hers. _What's wrong with Murtagh? Why would he steal my dragon? How does Nasuada fit into all of this? Was her fight with Eragon that bad?_

_Ismira, calm down. I do not know enough to know most of those. Nasuada was displeased with Eragon's decision, that I know for certain. There was no sort of ill will towards Eragon though, and Eragon made no threats or intimidating gestures. As far as Murtagh's involvement, and how you or your dragon figures into everything, I do not know. I believe that Eragon and I will be returning to Alagaesia sooner than we originally planned. Before that though, we must return to _Du Vardafells.

_What of my training? Isn't that supposed to be completed before I go there? _

_Your basic training, yes. But circumstances are dictating otherwise. Eragon will have to send word to the leaders of the other races to send their Riders to _Du Vardafells_ now. Nasuada and Murtagh are too unpredictable at present to trust them to leave the other Riders alone. No doubt you'll meet the newest members within the week, for it is not a long journey and Eragon will send other Riders to gather them. _

_How will we train if our dragons are just hatchlings? _

_There is much to learn about dragons and yourselves as Riders, including your responsibilities and beginning your work with magic._

_My dragon... Ismira trailed off, thinking to herself and looking down at the beast in her arms. _

_She will grow quickly at first and then slower, but she will never stop growing. I am evidence of that. Saphira said, bringing Ismira back to herself. _

_What about a name? _

Saphira snorted, _A dragon should choose its own name. As was such with me, and all the dragons before me and all the dragons that have hatched since I hatched. When it comes time, your dragon will choose a name for herself, or ask you to aid her in finding a name. _

Ismira was dismayed, but understood. The creature would no doubt be as intelligent as Ismira if not more so, and so she respected its ability to either choose a name or at least discuss them.

_Saphira, take us down. Let's get this dragon out of its restraints._ Eragon said, and down Saphira went, landing gracefully for a beast of her size and crouching to allow Eragon and Ismira to dismount. "Let me see." Eragon said, motioning for the dragon. Ismira presented it to him, and it squeaked and looked around, examining everyone and its new surroundings. Eragon whispered a few words in the Ancient Language and the chains and muzzle fell off as if they never held on. The dragon hopped from Eragon's arms, gliding to the earth. It awkwardly crawled to Ismira's feet and let out a noise.

"Oh you poor thing! You must be hungry." Ismira said, kneeling and stroking the tiny ridges along its spine. Eragon moved to Saphira's saddle bags and pulled a bag of meat from them and handed it to Ismira. As she fed the dragon, Eragon sat and watched the pair.

"It has been a while since I've held a dragon that small," he said, grinning and glancing towards Saphira.

_I was never that small._ Saphira said, snorting and letting out a cloud of smoke.

Eragon just shrugged and said, "All of the dragons that come to us are large enough to carry their Riders usually." Looking at the dragon, which was barely as long as her arm, Ismira found it hard to believe the creature would be able to carry her, much less be as large as Saphira one day. Eragon stood, looking towards Saphira. "We cannot afford to stay for long. We must continue. We've barely a half hour lead on Murtagh as it is. We can talk more in the air, or when we stop for the night."

Ismira stood, allowing her dragon to make itself comfortable in her arms. She sighed gently and followed Eragon to Saphira, who allowed them to climb aboard. Eragon took the time to strap both himself and Ismira into Saphira's saddle, not wanting a repeat of earlier events. With a mighty sweep of her wings and a jolting leap off the earth, Saphira and her passengers were airborne again.

Until nightfall, little was said between the three as far as Ismira knew. Even when the fire was made and food cooking, Eragon and Saphira let Ismira have her own thoughts. She sat quietly, watching the baby dragon and wondering how it saw the world and what was happening around them. She touched its mind briefly, and when she did it turned its sharp gaze to her. Almost frightened, she looked away, back towards the fire. After Eragon had sent away magical messages to the Riders and the leaders of the non-human races, he sat and tended to the simmering stew. Still he said nothing. Saphira shifted from where she lay and extended her neck to look down at the tiny hatchling.

_This is a strong hatchling. She is brave and curious._ Saphira said, finally breaking the uncomfortable silence, _A dragon fit for a Rider. _

"How do you know?" Ismira said.

"How do I know what?" Eragon replied, and it dawned on Ismira that Saphira had been speaking only to her.

"Oh, I.. I'm sorry, I did not realise.." Ismira found it hard to force out words when she had been so obviously embarrassed.

Eragon grinned. "I see. Saphira, would you care to share with the class?" he paused before musing, "I have been in a classroom for far too long."

_I said that this hatchling is brave and curious._

Eragon nodded. "So she is. She will do well."

_Assuming she ever grows large enough to fly with the rest of us. _

Ismira was not sure if the conversation was still about the dragon, or rather about herself now. "How long will that take?"

"Not long. It will be about a month before she will even be close to carrying you. In a couple of weeks though, she will be able to fly for a few hours a day, and likely hunt for herself. I suspect she will want to, as well." Eragon said. "Until that time however, we will provide her with food."

Ismira felt hundreds of questions welling up, so much so that it felt like she had no idea what to ask. She decided that the best course would be to ask, "Did all of the eggs you brought to Alagaesia hatch?"

"I do not know. I am only certain of yours. We will find out when we gather all of the new Riders to Du Vardafells. And if there are unhatched eggs, well, you will have a smaller class than usual."

_It will be an unusual class anyway, since they have not had the usual two months to prepare to go to Du Vardafells. _Saphira chimed in.

Eragon nodded. "It is nothing we cannot handle."

Despite their words, Ismira still found it hard to believe that soon she would be training to become a Rider. _Speak for yourselves,_ she thought to herself.


	5. Chapter 4: The Queens

**Chapter 4: The Queens**

"My Queen, I cannot explain what happened. Eragon is too—"

"Skilled? Cunning? Powerful? Too powerful for Murtagh. The one who escaped and supposedly found a way to be as powerful as Eragon? Do not make me laugh."

"He is different. Something about him is different. He has found a way to manipulate very essence of a person's mind, and what protects that mind. I do not understand the magic he is using."

Her steel voice now openly mocked Murtagh: "And I suppose next you will admit you do not know how to wield a blade, or use magic."

Murtagh mentally cringed, but remained where he stood. "You would understand if you had seen, if you had felt the sheer strength of his will. Lady, I do not think that even Galbatorix would have been able to defend himself from what Eragon has become."

"You did not have to defend yourself. You brought him forth and fought him. Your task was simply to bring me the dragon and invite Eragon here! Not to try and settle old, petty squabbles!"

Murtagh stamped his foot and slammed his hand on the table before him. "They are not petty squabbles!"

"And anger will get you nothing!" She rose and slapped Murtagh across the face. "Do not forget who I am. One word, and nowhere in Alagaësia will be safe for you to hide!"

"And you forget that I do not fear you." Murtagh replied.

"And yet you still serve me. How is that?" She asked, moving close and whispering in his ear. "I can take everything from you, even if you do not believe it. You still follow my word, my commands." She returned to her chair. "And what of the girl?"

"She is with Eragon."

"I see. Disappointing, but acceptable. I will simply rework things around this development."

Murtagh bowed his head slightly. "The dragon will grow quickly. I felt her mind. It is an old hatchling. One of the remnants of the Riders that never hatched."

"It is of little consequence. Ismira will play into my hand. It is what she was born for."

"I am not so sure. The girl is stubborn and dedicated to Eragon."

"Why do you continue to doubt me, Murtagh?"

"Eragon killed Galbatorix. You are not even close to Galbatorix in strength."

"Eragon had eldunari, and even then he was lucky to be clever enough to outwit the old man."

"And you are cleverer than both of them together?" Murtagh's question left a long silence in the room. When she spoke, her voice shook him to the bone.

"How could I not be?"

* * *

><p>Day broke as swiftly as it had gone, and Eragon did not let Ismira sleep in for long. After he had packed the saddlebags and readied Saphira's saddle, he shook Ismira awake. She jolted, only relaxing when she looked around and realised all was well. Her dragon greedily snapped up the meat she offered it for breakfast, and she found her own stomach rumbling as well. Eragon offered her what remained of the stew and Ismira took and ate it gratefully. As she watched her dragon, she was surprised at what a transformation had occurred over the last two nights. The dragon was now as tall as her knee, and it no longer walked awkwardly, but rather strode gracefully as the dragon's incandescent scales caught and refracted the light. The dragon also reached out more freely to Ismira, and she found herself becoming more comfortable with its touch. It openly portrayed its curiosity and feelings to her, especially the contentedness of having a full stomach. Ismira wondered if the dragon could form coherent thoughts yet, or at what time it would be able to do that.<p>

She projected to it, _Hello?_ But the dragon only turned its gaze to her, and did not reply except with a wave of confusion. She resolved to ask Eragon about the growth of a dragon when they were again in the air. It did not take long to reach that point, and soon Saphira was launching herself and those on her shoulders into the air. Almost immediately Ismira tried speaking to Eragon, and quickly regretted it. As soon as she opened her mouth, the wind dried it and left her gasping, leaving her wondering how Eragon was able to speak while in the air.

_It is something you get used to. This will be easier. What did you wish to speak about?_ Eragon projected, his touch more subtle than Saphira's, but still just as frightening to Ismira.

_I spoke with Saphira some about dragons' growth, but she wasn't very specific. What can you tell me about it?_

_Dragons grow at varying rates, as do all living beings. Your hatchling is growing faster than Saphira did, for example. It took four days for Saphira to reach your dragon's size. I have a feeling that its growth will taper off faster, however. She should be able to carry you in a few weeks and then her growth will level out and become more steady._

_And what of her mental abilities?_

_Speech? That will likely come before a fortnight is out. You would do well to spend time telling your dragon of things that are and have been, even if she cannot reply and cannot understand now, it will aid her later when she begins to speak and learn for herself. You should know however that she is not dumb, nor a brute. In fact, I would not be surprised to see that your dragon will be one of the wisest dragons to come to us for some time. She is old, older than you and me together._

_How old?_

_A hundred years and more. She was one of the eggs that the Riders hid away when they were defeated by Galbatorix. Her mind has had much time to mature, even if she is not capable of complex thought processes yet._

The thought gave Ismira pause. To think that her dragon was over a hundred years old already, yet still just a hatchling was confusing and interesting at the same time. She let her thoughts reach out to the dragon, and it looked up at her inquisitively. She found herself exploring the dragon's mind, and the dragon seemed to object until it realised what Ismira was doing. The dragon was old. Ismira could feel it in the vast blank canvas of the dragon's mind. She knew that the dragon had such a huge capacity to learn and that when the dragon did finally learn, it would be wise beyond Ismira and Eragon's years. She almost feared the massive intellect the dragon had the potential to possess, and she pulled away from it.

_Do not be afraid. She is your dragon, after all._ Eragon reminded her.

Ismira nodded and took a deep breath to steady herself, looking out towards the horizon as she thought.

* * *

><p>Queen Arya leaned forward over the table as the messenger spoke, her hands resting on it and supporting her form.<p>

"My Queen, a message arrived for you this morning from Eragon Kingkiller."

"I will hear it." Arya nodded to the messenger, her hands coming to rest in her lap as she spoke.

"He asked for the Rider chosen for our people to be delivered to _Du Vardafells_ at once." The messenger appeared almost frightened to continue.

"What else?"

"He has requested that you escort the Rider personally. I strongly advise against—"

"I will go."

"My Queen, with all due respect…"

"And you know I respect your word as much as any other, and you will not stop me in this. Send for the Rider. Eragon would not ask for this if it was not vital."

"Of course, _Dr__ö__ttning_ Arya." The messenger departed in short order.

Arya had never gotten used to that title, and she felt glad that she would be able to shed it, at least for a short while. _You know they will never allow you to shed it. _Fírnen said, and she turned to look at him as his huge green eye peered in from a window. She had no reply, instead staying silent. _It is their way. They will treat you as royalty._

_And humans are foolish creatures._

_Elves have been known to be foolish at times._ The huge green eye blinked, and Arya simply glowered at him.

_And dragons have not?_

Fírnen snorted, a motion that shook the room she was in. _I? Foolish?_

Arya ignored him and turned her attention to the persons entering the room. The Rider was named Ralyn, and she was as tall as Arya, who stood to greet her. Ralyn bowed awkwardly, as she held her dragon – a brilliant and vibrant violet dragon – and waited for Arya to speak.

"Are you ready to depart?" Arya asked.

"What? I, well… no. Forgive me, I don't understand the question." Ralyn said, her brows furrowing as she regarded Arya.

Arya simply sat as she examined Ralyn's features, from her bright golden hair to her deep blue eyes. The two could have been sisters, if – _Oh please, you're much prettier. _Fírnen interjected.

Arya snapped her ice cold gaze to the dragon, who snorted again and departed, no doubt to get in a final nap before they left for their journey. "You are familiar with Eragon." Arya said, returning her gaze to Ralyn and double checking to make sure her visage had softened.

"Eragon of Bid'Daum or Eragon of Saphira? Yes, both."

"Of Saphira. He has requested our presence at _Du Vardafells._"

"Our? You are going out? Queen Arya, that—"

"Hardly seems safe? Of course it's not, that's why I'm going. Eragon has ever been one of my most trusted allies. He would not ask this if it was not absolutely vital." Arya paused as she considered how she had repeated herself. She hated that. "Will you fly out with me?"

"Of course, Queen. But why are we going? What has happened?"

"I do not know. I will ask Eragon when I see him. We will leave tomorrow morning. Pack only what you will need for the journey. Ask who you must for assistance, I have my own preparations to make, otherwise I would do it myself."

"Of course. I take my leave?"

Arya nodded, and stood to make ready her kingdom for her departure.

* * *

><p>Ismira sat on a small rock as Eragon prepared food for lunch. Saphira had departed to feed herself. Eragon himself seemed tense, but his presence made Ismira feel at ease. She couldn't help but notice that it seemed like he had done this a thousand times and more: made food for himself while Saphira soared the skies, looking for a meal.<p>

"How often do you go out into the wild like this?"

Eragon paused before giving the stew a final stir before leaning back and looking at her. "More often than I'd like to admit. _Du Vardafells_ is a stressful place for someone like me. Everyone expects everything from me." Ismira found it odd that he was so willing to confide in her, but she allowed him to continue. "Saphira and I usually spend our evenings out away from everyone. If I stick around, there's always someone being a troublemaker that I have to deal with, or a dragon got into a spat with another or…" Eragon smiled and laughed to himself. "Gods I miss it."

"Well you're honest." Ismira found was the only words she could muster.

Eragon nodded. "Listen to me, I sound like an old man!" He shook his head, reaching up and running a hand through his hair. "I'm only forty-something! Brom… how old was he?" He shook his head again. "He was a hundred and more! If I make it that far I'll probably be as crazy as him."

Ismira was smiling though, and she laughed with him. "Tell me about Brom. I heard stories from Dad, but…"

"Nothing important, I'm sure. Brom was a Rider. He had a dragon with the same name as Saphira, almost the same color too."

_I am much better looking though. _Saphira projected.

"So she says. I don't know, I never saw her namesake." Eragon said. "Anyway, Brom… Brom was my father. He was a good man. He got me on my feet when we first left Carvahall. That was before your dad had built a castle and it was a popular city. I buried him in the desert sometime after that." Eragon paused before taking a deep breath and continuing. "I wish you could have met him. He would have loved you. Actually, you remind me a lot of him."

"How?"

"Don't worry about it. It's a compliment." Eragon looked back at the stew, jumping as he realized it was boiling. "Why didn't you say something?" He said, a smile on his face and the fire returning to his eyes. Ismira jumped as well, shocked at his sudden movement that defied her eyes. In that moment, Ismira realized how foreign Eragon really was to her. His eyes, ears, even his speech were completely different than any human's. An elf-like quality was all about him, and she watched him in wonder. "What is it?" he asked.

"Oh, I, uh…"

"Ismira."

"How did you get like that?"

Eragon continued to stir the stew as he thought before producing bowls and serving the meal. "That's a story for another time. I'll tell you the dragons did it to me, and that's it for now."

"Okay. I'm sorry."

Eragon smiled at her as he handed a bowl to her. "It is okay." He leaned back and looked towards the sky, where Saphira was descending from as she joined them around the small fire. "Took you long enough." He grinned.

_I am losing my touch apparently._

"You? Losing your touch? Never." Saphira snorted in response and made herself comfy as she waited for them to eat. Once they had finished and camp disassembled, Ismira gathered up her napping dragon and joined Eragon on Saphira's back as they departed yet again.


	6. Chapter 5: Dragons

**Chapter 5: Dragons**

Graufdera was becoming impatient. "He's been gone for too long. We should've heard from him by now." She said, her voice thick with the accent that so often accompanied dwarves.

Raknovosh shook his head, frowning at her. "He is fine. If anyone knows what they're doing, it's him." The Urgal's voice was deep and rumbling, a fine match for the dwarf's gruff attitude.

"He's irresponsible, that's what he is."

"He left _Du Vardafells_ in your hands." Raknovosh said.

"A bloody shame. We need him here." The dwarf's voice was edged with worry.

"I will look again for Firesword if that will sate you."

"No, there's no point. They'll get here when they get here. And must you call him that? His name is Eragon."

"I call him as was taught by those who came before me."

The dwarf huffed and glowered at the nearly twice her size creature. "Have it your way, then."

They stood in an open courtyard that overlooked a valley between two of the large peaks that made up part of _Du Vardafells_. The sunlight sparkled and glinted as it reflected through the fountain in the center of the courtyard and off of the scales of the two dragons that napped in the warmth. Graufdera and Raknovosh had found the time to speak to each other in between classes, and now the silence that fell between the pair was enough for the fountain's gurgling voice to rise up and fill the emptiness. After a minute and more of silence, the two moved past each other, certain there were other things to do beyond standing about in the empty courtyard.

Graufdera found herself, not but a few moments later, in another of the courtyards that filled the home of the Riders and face to face with Saphira. The huge dragon took up a large majority of the courtyard and in the remaining space, students and teachers both gathered around to get a glimpse at Eragon and the woman he had with him. Graufdera worked her way through the crowd, coming out in front of Eragon and a red-haired woman whom she had never seen before. "Well it's about time!"

"Graufdera. Charming, as always." Eragon said, a smile crossing his face. "Have any of the others arrived yet?"

"They are safely tucked away and waiting for you, as you asked. You're late."

"I see." Eragon looked to those assembled. "Allow me to introduce all of you to the newest member of our order. Many of you know of Roran Stronghammer. This is his daughter, Ismira."

Ismira flushed bright red and raised a hand sheepishly as conversations exploded amongst the people. It seemed that being a member of Eragon's family was cause for much interest. Graufdera continued to glare at Eragon, finding all of these introductions and such unnecessary. "Well, that's enough of that then. Come on, you've got an elf queen waiting on you!" she said, bringing Eragon back to the matters at hand. However, Eragon did not move. The man seemed frozen in time as he stared past Graufdera, past all of the crowd that had assembled. When Graufdera and Ismira both looked, they saw nothing. Several people in the crowd turned to look as well, but none saw what he did. He stood, locked in place for a long moment. Finally, Eragon looked to Graufdera, a new and grim look coming to his face.

"Indeed I do. Come along Ismira, Graufdera. Where is Raknovosh?" Eragon said, his voice now edged with what Ismira could only think was fear.

"I'll send word to have him go to the meeting hall at once." Graufdera said, turning her head for a moment before her brown dragon flew overhead, eyes searching the campus. With a nod, Eragon led the two women through the parting crowd and through a dizzying series of tunnels that Ismira thought were entirely unnecessary. However, after a few awkward moments of silence except for the clatter of Saphira's claws on the tiles and the footsteps of Ismira and Graufdera, they arrived at yet a third courtyard that sat before a building carved into the stone of the mountain. The looming arch that made up the entrance to the structure was wide enough for two of Saphira to walk comfortably beside each other. Ismira's dragon gazed around at the areas around them, and squeaked up at Ismira, and with the noise a wave of hunger washed over the woman.

Ismira looked at the dragon and smiled, nodding. She bent and whispered to the dragon as they headed towards the construction in front of them. "We'll get you some food, I promise." She also impressed it mentally, and a dagger of cold impatience entered Ismira's mind. Ismira smiled and looked up once they passed over the threshold into the huge space beyond. Gathered in the truly massive hall were more dragons than Ismira would have ever believed. Lounging and eating, some dragons sat alone and some with people – no doubt their Riders. Some sat in close huddles, having unseen conversations. And still in the center of the room sat the largest dragon that Ismira had yet to see, a massive green beast that made Saphira look small in comparison. With roars that shook the building, Saphira and the mighty green dragon leaped towards each other, causing those in between to yell and roar and scramble out of the way. Within moments Saphira had the green dragon pinned, a roar of triumph coming from her jaws. Her voice filled the hall, no doubt allowing all willing to hear: _You were always too slow, Firnen._

_And you cheated, as always!_ Firnen replied.

Meanwhile, Eragon, Ismira, and Graufdera approached the people that were gathered near Firnen and Saphira. Two elves and two dwarves stood gathered in a half circle, which the three completed. Only a moment before the conversation began, an Urgal who loomed over Ismira approached. Eragon butted heads and let out a roar at the huge creature, a ritual unknown to Ismira. "Raknovosh, it is good that you are here."

"You have called Firesword and so I am here." The Urgal replied.

After the short exchange, Eragon turned his attention to the dwarf who seemed all too eager to get his attention. "Orik!" The dwarf clapped Eragon in a hug befitting of one his race, Eragon on his knee and the two embraced like two brothers.

"Don't ye go runnin' away again, ye hear? Me foster brother's still a brother!" The dwarf cried, his face beaming.

Eragon grinned in knowing and nodded, "On my honor."

The dwarf clapped him on the back. "Good lad!"

Finally, the elf queen stepped forward and proffered a hand to Eragon. Eragon hesitated, but shook it gently, bowing and kissing her hand. "Queen Arya." He said gently.

"Eragon. It is good to see you again."

"And you as well." The formalness of their greeting surprised Ismira, and she watched closely at their interactions together. Ismira's father had told her of how Eragon and Arya were close, but this was not how close friends greeted each other.

_Perhaps time changes things._ she mused to her dragon. The creature squeaked up at her, confusion washing over her. She grinned, oblivious to the conversation that was beginning around her.

Eragon began to explain the events that had transpired in Carvahall with Murtagh. Grim looks of confusion and surprise crossed the faces of most assembled. Arya remained stoic, but Orik was not shy with his outburst of surprise: "Surely this cannae be! Murtagh was our ally at the end o' the war!"

Eragon nodded, looking from Orik to Arya. "I do not have enough information to know for sure what is going on. I must depart again, and soon. I will meet with Nasuada and Murtagh and find out."

Arya spoke, "That would be unwise. Now that you have refused the invitation, you will likely be met with resistance, and going alone against all of Nasuada's resources and Murtagh is not a sound strategy." She crossed her arms over her chest, expecting that to be the end of it.

Before Eragon could reply, Raknovosh spoke for him, "Firesword could tame all of them with one hand tied behind his back. You underestimate him, elf."

Firnen roared and moved towards the Urgal threatiningly, _You will address the Queen as such! _His voice sounded. With a simple look, Arya tamed the dragon, and the dragon let out a huff of smoke and settled back down next to Saphira. Arya met the Urgal's gaze evenly, her voice collected at the man's challenge. "I know very well what Eragon is and is not capable of."

The Urgal growled, backed by a growl from his and Graufdera's dragons, and Graufdera spoke up, "Queen you may be, but you don't-"

"Graufdera! Raknovosh. Thank you for your concerns, but the Queen is correct. It would be unwise. Raknovosh, I would ask that you accompany me. Graufdera, how fare your students?"

Raknovosh let pure excitement enter his voice as he spoke, "I will go."

Graufdera said, "They are set to graduate on time. Two weeks time."

"How convenient." Eragon mused. "Very well. As soon as that time comes, you will take Ismira and Ralyn under your tutelage."

"But what of-" Graufdera started.

"I will find a suitable teacher for them before I depart. Worry not, though I know you will anyway." Eragon said.

The woman huffed and stomped a foot, looking to Orik for support. The dwarf king put his hands up, taking a hands off approach to the whole situation. "I dinnae know enough of tha goin's ons here t'say what's right. I'll ask about the arrangements fer Drogun though," he said.

Eragon nodded, "As you should. Drogun will be taught by Raknovosh alongside another student when we make our return. Until then, all three students will be taught the basics of being a Rider and how to care for their dragons by those appropriate."

Orik nodded, "Very well." The conversation fell to uneasy silence, as the entire hall had fallen silent to listen to the conversations unfolding. For a long moment, Ismira was unsure as to what to do or say, if anything.

Just when Ismira was almost unable to bear the silence any longer, Eragon spoke to Raknovosh, "Begin your preparations immediately. We leave the day after tomorrow, as dawn breaks." The Urgal nodded and pounded his chest before moving off to begin preparations for the journey. Then Eragon turned his attention to Arya and Orik, "Make yourselves comfortable for as long as you like. You are guests in my home until you decide to depart." To the students he said, "I will make arrangements for your studies to begin tomorrow. Be prepared to begin early in the morning. Graufdera, if you will show them where their quarters will be?"

The dwarf nodded, motioning for the three assembled students to follow her. As they moved away, Arya, Eragon, and Orik were left alone. Orik said, "I'm gonna find me some grub. Where c'n a dwarf get somethin' t'eat aroun' here?" Eragon provided some concise instructions on how to get to the cafeteria, and the dwarf immediately headed off, counting off the directions on a hand.

Arya and Eragon stood alone, backdropped by their huge green and blue dragons. "Arya." Eragon said.

"Eragon."

"You were always very good at keeping a straight face."

Arya watched him for a moment, her face still calm. "Ruling a people exposes one to many things." She finally said.

"I never had the stomach for politics myself."

"I know. It's why you are here." She said, her voice dropping low.

He regarded her curiously, "You are different than when I knew you."

"Time changes many things, Eragon."

* * *

><p>Ismira's quarters were about as spartan as a room can get. Wildly different from the home she enjoyed when in Carvahall, it took her a moment to comprehend the room that she now stood in, alone with her dragon. Along one wall was a simple bed and dresser, a window set in the stone of the wall across from the door, and a desk and chair made of wood along the left-hand wall. In the corner next to the door was a perch with a covered bed and hiding spot, clearly designed for a small dragon.<p>

"You'll get a nicer room the longer you're here," a voice said from the door, and Ismira spun around, looking to who had surprised her. A tall man stood in the doorway. His face was kind, and his hair was cut to frame that face, set into which were two bright brown eyes. She stared at him, mouth half-open. The man smiled at her look, "It's nice to finally see a familiar face. Carvahall is a long way from here. How is your father doing?"

Ismira was taken aback by the man's familiarity. She did not react right away except to say, "He worries about everything."

The man laughed, "As he well should! Earl of Palancar Valley. That's a heavy responsibility." He stuck a hand out in greeting, "Syrus. My father fought with yours at the battle of Aroughs and followed him back to Palancar after the war."

As she shook his hand, remembrance flooded Ismira all at once, her mind filling with images of flowers and a sad crowd gathered around a dark casket. "Yes, I remember now. I attended the funeral. That was before you were chosen."

Syrus nodded, his gaze becoming distant for a moment before refocusing on Ismira. "Yes, that's right. Anyway, I'm around most of the time. Come find me sometime, my room is near the meeting hall. First hallway on the right before you get to the courtyard. See you Ismira." And with that, he was gone, the door closing silently behind him. Ismira watched after him for a long moment, both perplexed and intrigued. She looked to her dragon, who simply regarded her curiously and curled up on Ismira's bed. Ismira went and sat next to the dragon, watching it silently.

Another knock on the door drew her attention again. Confused as to why she was receiving so many visitors, she stood and said, "Yes?"

A woman's voice responded, "Ismira?"

"Yes, come in."

The door opened and an elf woman with long blond hair entered the room. Ismira recognized her as the elven student who had accompanied Queen Arya. "Please pardon my intrusion, if you are busy..." The elf trailed off.

"No, not at all. It's not much, but please sit." Ismira said, forcing a smile and offering the chair at the desk. The elf took it, Ismira was sure out of courtesy more than anything.

The woman let a half-smile cross her face, "Thank you. Your dragon is, uh, beautiful. She's lovely."

Ismira grinned and looked down at the creature, which now was about as tall as Ismira's thigh. "So she is. I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name...?"

"Oh! My manners abandon me. I am Ralyn."

"And you already know my name."

Ralyn nodded. "I was wondering, did Eragon confide in you at all? Do you know what is going on?"

"No, Eragon hasn't told me much of anything. I barely understood what happened in Carvahall."

"What did happen in Carvahall?" Ralyn asked, her curiosity showing.

Ismira briefly recounted what she could of it, leaving out the detail of how her mind had blazed with crippling pain until Eragon stepped in. Remembering how she had been embarrassed at the Games, Ismira was reluctant to show weakness to another elf.

After the short tale, Ralyn leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. Ismira couldn't help but take note of how Ralyn looked so similar to Queen Arya. "Ralyn, are you and the Queen related?"

Ralyn shook her head, "No. Often she and I are compared though."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

Rayn shook her head, "It is alright." The elf seemed unshaken by the question and continued, "Shall we take a look about this place? I'll bring my dragon if you bring yours. We'll have to learn our way about eventually, yes?"

Ismira stood, "Absolutely. I'd rather not spend much time in here if I don't have to." With a thought, the dragon stood to follow her. Taking the time to stop by Ralyn's room, which Ismira was pleased to discover was the same style as her own, the violet dragon joined the pair. Ralyn's dragon stood just a few inches shorter than Ismira's, and the two padded along beside the elf and human, occasionally pausing to sniff at each other curiously and snort or make squeaks or playful growls at each other. As the four walked together, they eventually found themselves in one of the wide-open courtyards of the academy. A few Riders sat with their dragons, having conversations or otherwise preoccupied with a craft or practicing a technique. A few turned to look at the pair with dragons not even as big as the claws of Saphira. Ismira gave a look to Ralyn, but it was ignored as the elf crossed the courtyard and sat on the edge of the fountain before turning her attention to her dragon.

Ismira followed her, sitting next to her and watching how Ralyn interacted with the dragon. She seemed to revere the creature, even as it curiously looked about and occasionally sniffed at various things that were flying through the air or on the ground. Ismira's dragon sat quietly, watching her with an unwavering gaze. Ismira found it hard to match the dragon's gaze. Ralyn looked to Ismira finally, watching the white dragon and her Rider. The dragon turned its attention to Ralyn, and Ismira noted the confusion that the dragon expressed. It moved closer to Ismira, turning its head and letting out a growl. Ralyn seemed surprised, and immediately averted her gaze.

The dragon once again turned its attention to Ismira, and Ismira was given the impression of an invasion of privacy, a violation of space. Ismira snapped her gaze to Ralyn. The silent exchange didn't take more than a few seconds, but Ralyn was apparently very interested in her own dragon's activities, as the sparkling violet dragon was peering into the waters of the fountain, that gurgled and rippled as the falling water hit the basin below. Even as Ismira was about to open her mouth to say something, the elf's voice rang out in her mind. _You are lucky to have such a dragon. She will serve you well._

Ismira let her confusion show as she replied in kind, _And you are not similarly lucky?_

The elf sighed, turning to look at Ismira's dragon again. The dragon watched her closely, and Ralyn spoke again, _I am indeed lucky to have a dragon. _

Regardless of being unsatisfied with the answer, Ismira let the elf have her cryptic words. Silence fell between the pair, and Ismira turned her attention back to her own dragon. Ismira, unsure of whether the dragon would truly understand, began to tell her father's favorite story of the war: the battle of Aroughs. She tried to convey what she could with images and emotions, but she had not been at the battle. She feared that many of the things she was trying to express were lost in translation. Were it that she had access to her father's memories, the story would be so much easier to show. Though perhaps it would no doubt have been filled with the blood and realities of war that her father had witnessed. Ismira gave pause to herself as she thought about that. Her father had seen so much war and death, it was an idea that hadn't occurred to her until just this moment. She regarded her dragon with a sad smile, trying to hide her feelings from it.

The dragon, regardless, made her smile with its confusion and a happy expression. It seemed that the dragon was enjoying the story, and her curiosity urged Ismira to continue. Ismira told what she could, of that story and part way through another she realised that both Ralyn and the violet dragon had turned their attention back to Ismira. Ralyn said, _Stories of the war have always intrigued me. May I listen?_

Ismira nodded, opening her mind to the elf and the violet dragon, whose mind was vastly different than her own dragon's. The violet dragon seemed young by comparison, and much more interested in Ismira's story. As Ismira continued – the story of what Roran had seen during the battle of Ilirea – Ralyn occasionally stopped her to ask a question clarifying, but otherwise politely listened. By the end of the story, both dragons had made themselves comfortable and continued to watch Ismira with sharp interest. At this time too Ismira realised how long the four of them had been sitting together, and both her dragon and her own stomach reminded her that it was time to eat.

It took them some time to find one of the various cafeterias, but once there it was impossible to miss. People of all races with dragons of all sizes and colors filled the halls or sat outside, enjoying meals of all kinds of cuisines. Ismira recognized a few of the dishes from the streets of Ilirea, but otherwise most of the food was foreign to her. Most of the dwarves drank alcohol and enjoyed the laughter and company of other dwarves and Urgals, while humans and elves mingled freely and the dragons blended together into one huge rainbow of conversations and interactions.

After dinner, which passed without event and left Ralyn and Ismira alone once again in the hallway where their rooms were kept. Ralyn gave a brief goodnight, excusing herself and her dragon. Ismira and her own dragon made their way to their room and sat quietly, watching the rising moon over their new home. The window gave enough of a view to look over the mountains and valleys, and Ismira found herself missing home for the first time. The dragon looked at her as Ismira sat, before shocking Ismira out of her stupor.

_Ismira._

The woman jumped and let out a short yelp, looking at the dragon, her eyes wide.

_Ismira._

Startled and frightened, she pressed her back to the wall.

_Ismira._


	7. Chapter 6: Interference

**Chapter 6: Interference**

Eragon ducked under the huge Urgal's swing, the blade whistling over his head as Eragon scampered sideways, his sword barely ready in time to stop the next swing. Eragon's entire arm and shoulder vibrated under the weight of the swing. If Eragon didn't know any better, he would say that Raknovosh was trying to cause him harm. Eragon shoved the blade away, raising it and holding it ready for the next attack. It was a matter of patience with Raknovosh, Eragon had learned. Surely if Eragon pressed the offensive he could overcome the Urgal much more quickly, but the Urgal tested his endurance and once Raknovosh had tired himself, it was a simple matter for Eragon to best him. The next swing was low and short, coming up more quickly than Eragon was ready for and even his improved reflexes were hard-pressed to slap the blade back down and away with his own sword.

Had the swords not been warded, they would have sparked at the whirling motions that Raknovosh and Eragon made as they fought. The display was rather impressive, Raknovosh using his size and strength to his advantage and pushing Eragon to his very limits, often leaving the smaller man with no choice but to take an extra step or two to counteract the single step that the Urgal had taken. Many had gathered to watch the fight, it was rare to see two of the senior _Elda_ spar together. Most knew of Eragon's plans to depart with Raknovosh, and the crowd that had gathered remained respectfully quiet, allowing the two combatants to focus. Eragon did not pay the crowd any thoughts at all however, he focused on avoiding the painful bruises that would come should Raknovosh strike him. The Urgal's heavy sword clanged against Brisingr again and Eragon had to shuffle back a step to compensate against the force of Raknovosh's strength.

A flash of gold caught Eragon's attention for less than a second, but that was all Raknovosh needed. In that flash, Eragon dropped his guard for just long enough to allow his opponent to take the advantage and slap Eragon squarely on the thigh. Eragon jumped at the sudden pain and swore loudly. The fire in Raknovosh's eyes was enough to speak for him. Eragon flourished his blade and pushed the tip of the sword against the ground, a scowl coming to his face as he watched the triumphant Urgal raise his arms and bellow to the sky, to the cheers of those that had gathered.

"Your mind is not all here Firesword," he said, noting that Eragon was searching the crowd.

"No, it is not." Eragon admitted. He stared past those gathered, wondering what he had seen. It was infrequent that his eyes betrayed him. He was, though, getting older, by his own observation. To some, he was still as sharp as ever, that he knew. Especially to the newer students that had gathered to watch the sparring match. To those who had known him longest though, he was certain that their eyes saw what he saw. An aging Rider.

Eragon paused long enough to lift his sword and dispel the wards around it, his gaze moving to watch Saphira, who lay quietly enjoying the sun. Her eyes locked with his, and she turned her gaze away from him, and he, following her gaze, saw Arya as she left the courtyard, her golden tunic shining in the sun. Eragon turned to Raknovosh, who too had followed his gaze. The Urgal grinned at him before moving away to speak with some students, who were eager to ask questions about the match. Eragon, however, was not amused. He slid his sword into his sheath and left it with Saphira as he followed the Elf queen through a short tunnel and into yet another courtyard.

There, Arya- He stopped and corrected himself. Queen Arya. _Dröttning. _He mulled the word over for a moment as he took a step back and leaned against the wall of the tunnel, watching her speak to the elves that had joined her at the fountain. He noted Ralyn's presence among them. He was almost disappointed to see that Ismira was not among them, yet glad too. The Queen would corrupt her, he knew it. The young woman was so impressionable, much as he was at such an age. No doubt Ismira's meeting with Nasuada had a similar effect that he imagined the elf queen would have on his niece. Eragon turned his head, not looking but listening to the unfamiliar footsteps that approached.

"The Elves are so elegant." Ismira said, and Eragon nodded slowly.

"You aren't so far off." Eragon mused.

"I'm a human." Eragon could hear the envy in her voice as she spoke.

"So am I."

"Not any more."

Eragon considered the thought for a moment. Ismira was right, of course. Very little about Eragon constituted him as a human anymore. He could still grow a beard, and the thought brought a grin to his face. "Yes," He said.

"How Elvish of you." Ismira murmured.

Eragon regarded her curiously. She stood straight and tall, a sign of her upbringing. He had always thought that Roran carried himself with dignity; he wasn't sure why it surprised him that the man's daughter was any different. He turned his gaze back to Arya, who he was surprised to see was watching the pair closely.

"We appear to have worn out our welcome." Eragon said, turning away. Except, when he turned, he found that Ismira was no longer standing next to him. Instead, when he looked, she was halfway across the courtyard, making a straight line for Arya and Ralyn, Ismira's dragon padding alongside her as quick as its legs would carry it to match the woman's long strides. Dumbfounded, Eragon could only watch in horror.

Ralyn turned her gaze just in time to see Ismira enter the circle of elves that had gathered around her queen. Almost instinctively, Ralyn put herself between Arya and Ismira. None should be allowed to approach her queen without showing due respect. That a human woman would dare approach in such a brazen manner, Ralyn felt her temper flare. Another joiner Ralyn, standing shoulder to shoulder with her. Perhaps luckily for Ismira, the other elf spoke first.

"Who are you to approach, human?" The elf practically spat.

Behind her, Ralyn felt the Queen stand. Ralyn knew that if she did not act now, disaster would strike. And yet, when Arya pushed the two apart and stepped forward to greet Ismira as brazenly as the woman had approached, Ralyn's temper broke. "My Queen! With all due respect, who is this child to think she may come greet you unbidden?" Ralyn stepped forward, and reached out to touch Queen Arya.

The Queen raised a hand and snapped a warning glare at Ralyn, and instantly Ralyn felt ashamed. Here she was, the newest representative of her race to the Riders, and she presumed to warn the Queen of her entire people what she should or should not do. Ralyn felt very small as those around her instantly reacted to the Queen's near-instant look. Suddenly she was alone in a sea of familiarity. Luckily, all focus was on Ismira, who, when finally standing but a few steps from the Queen, knelt and bowed her head, remaining there until the Queen spoke. "Ismira Katrinasdaughter. Rise, child." Ismira stood, still not speaking. The Queen nodded, and a seemingly unspoken conversation passed between the two. Now Ralyn's envy was brought to the fore of her thoughts. Who was this insolent child to share a thought with Ralyn's Queen? "Leave us." The Queen commanded. Ralyn remained rooted to the spot, and as the crowd around them dispersed, Ralyn felt as if she stood at the center of a giant bowl, and all the world's light was focused on her.

Arya turned to look at Ralyn, and then reached out and touched Ralyn on the arm. Instantly, Ralyn was brought back to reality, and immediately she felt the chill of fear as she considered what may happen should she disobey. "Ralyn. Go stand with Eragon. I am in no danger." Arya indicated the spot where Eragon stood on the threshold of a small tunnel that led to another courtyard beyond. The man looked much as Ralyn thought she may have just a few moments ago: ready to pounce at any second. Ralyn, after a moment and a nod from the Queen, went and stood next to Eragon. Eragon watched her, and Ralyn avoided his gaze. She sat quietly, collecting herself and watching the exchange between Ismira and Arya silently.

Ismira's first question surprised even herself: "What made Eragon so much like an elf?"

The Queen's gaze made Ismira feel very small, yet she remained strong. Who was a Stronghammer to back down from an elf?

"The magic of dragons is very much misunderstood. Even I do not know for certain what magics caused his transformation." The Queen said, returning to her seat on the edge of the fountain.

Ismira paused long enough to muse that this was the same fountain that Ralyn and herself had shared just barely a night. "So, you don't know."

Arya nodded slowly. "What is your real question, Ismira?"

Ismira herself didn't know. "I don't know."

Arya nodded again. "I did not think so. May I propose an answer?"

"To what question? Uh, drott- Er, drut-" Ismira promptly shut her mouth to prevent embarrassing herself further. She has practiced this word, too! She had caught Graufdera earlier that day and asked what the right title for Arya was, in the Ancient Language.

Arya seemed to ignore the slip, "No, you cannot be like him."

The thought hadn't crossed her mind until the Queen spoke, but now that it was in her mind, Ismira realised that it was something she had wanted, perhaps without knowing that she wanted it, but wanted nonetheless. "How does that matter? I'm a Human. I know that can't change."

Arya looked past Ismira to where Eragon and Ralyn stood. Ismira turned and looked and saw them talking between themselves, though Ismira could not even hope to hear what they said. "Did you know that racial tensions have only gotten worse since the Games have been held? The Urgals, while satisfied with their victories for now, are hungry for blood. Elves and Humans, while intermixing more than ever, are still separated in the cities they share. Humans find themselves aligning more with their industrious kin, dwarves. We Elves revere nature too much for our interests to align with dwarves. The fires of industry are spreading. This world is about to become very, very small Ismira."

Ismira cursed audibly, and Arya regarded her with surprise. "Nasuada said war was brewing."

"I'm sure in more words than that, but it does not surprise me. Has Eragon told you of what is out here, past the mountains that separate Alagaësia from the rest of the world?"

"Why do Queens find it necessary to confide in me? I'm just... just..."

"Just a girl? Ismira, you, now that you are part of the Riders especially, are going to be extremely valuable in the coming future. Nasuada wants you to be on her side. I want you to be on the Riders' side. Nasuada has Murtagh already wrapped around her finger."

"You make her sound like a tyrant."

"Nasuada is doing what she feels is necessary. She is preparing for a major change in the world. A change that will extend far beyond her own borders, and our own."

Eragon approached, "Enough. Ismira is not a major part in this play. Do not frighten the poor girl, Arya."

The Queen looked at Eragon, and her voice turned to ice as she spoke: "You know as well as I do that every Rider in existence, young or old, is going to be a major part."

"Arya, that's enough. You're frightening her."

Ismira stamped her foot. "What is happening? Eragon, what is really going on here?"

Ralyn now spoke as she joined the group: "Eragon is going to depose Nasuada."

"What? Why? She's done nothing wrong!" Ismira protested.

Arya raised a hand. "No, he is not."

"I am not going to harm Nasuada, nor will I depose her. A solution must be found, though. Dwarven industry is expanding too rapidly and the humans are doing nothing but encouraging it. Manufactured goods are becoming commonplace. Surely you have seen this, Ismira."

"Well, yes, I mean, some of the finest silvers my father owns are from dwarven fires."

Eragon nodded. "An industrial revolution is coming. The world will change and be destroyed in the process. There will be new warfare, with weapons untold until now." Eragon produced a minuscule pouch and tossed it into the air, igniting it with a word that Ismira did not understand. With a loud pop, the pouch exploded into a mix of fire and smoke. Nothing was left afterwards.

"Just magic." Ralyn said.

"No. I only ignited it. The powder inside does all the work. Magic for anyone." Eragon corrected.

"Why is that not a good thing?" Ismira asked. "Wasn't that what Nasuada wanted in the first place? Either control magic or give it to everyone?"

Arya spoke again, "This is no magic. It is a dwarven invention. Any fire will ignite it. In enough quantities, it will move mountains."

"This is why I send Riders back every so often. I have to have a way to keep tabs on this powder and how it advances in the world. So far, the dwarves are keeping it secret. I had Orik bring some to me." Eragon said.

Arya said, "This powder, and other things the dwarves are working on, are extremely dangerous, especially in the wrong hands."

"But I thought the Riders weren't allowed to interfere with the world?" Ismira asked.

"We are its arbiters and ultimate lawmakers." Eragon corrected.

"So what if these things turn out to be good? What if they're how things are supposed to be?" Ralyn asked.

"They can be, if controlled properly. Nasuada does not know any of these things that we have just spoken of, and as such it is natural for her to prepare for a war that we hope to stop." Arya said.

"So that's why you're going." Ismira said.

"Yes." Eragon said. "I have to try to explain these things to Murtagh and Nasuada."

"And if you don't?"

Eragon shared a distressed look with Arya.

"War. In every corner of the world."


End file.
